Valentine
by Snoaz
Summary: Receiving something is best when you're not expecting it. Five drabbles; five pairings. Happy Valentine!


**A/N:**

**Commercial feast or not, it's good to remember sometimes what a great thing love is. So that's why I wish you all a Happy Valentine and give you these (ultra) small stories: five drabbles surrounding five of my favourite pairings. If you're happen to be curious as to which ones those are, I suggest you read on :D**

**Disclaimer: If Pokémon Special were mine, I'd make sure there'd be a Valentine spin-off full of fluff and romance. Oh, the love.  
**

* * *

Valentine

01.

Ruby stared at the bright red flower in his hand, small card attached to its thorny stem. It bore nothing else than a single name, written in powerful hand writing - but no more words were needed to understand the gesture.

A warmness spread from his mid-riff to the rest of his body, swirling in his heart and brushing past his face. (Half embarrassment; half something that didn't matter.) Hadn't he been trained so well, the stoic expression that he sported would have been washed away, replaced by the heat he felt all over his body; but his pores didn't know how to blush anymore, and gone was gone.

He'd never been one for Valentine or love declarations (_"I don't remember…") _- and perhaps this flower would end up just like the rest of his feelings that didn't match his perfectly carved-out version of himself.

Still, pitch-black eyes (blazing hot spirit; bubblegum-flavoured chuckles) made him stop in his tracks - and pause. Reconsider.

Throwing away something beautiful was a waste, in all cases…

…so perhaps he should keep it just this once, to make a statement towards all people who were barbarian and didn't understand the beauty of contests.

Only for that reason, though; _only for that reason._

* * *

02.

She was used to getting it all, and Valentine was no exception.

Still, Platina was on a trip right now, on a _mission _you might say, and there was no opportunity for croissants in bed, love letters on a tray and velvet roses by the dozen put in crystal vases.

Despite the loss of luxury, though, not a word of complaint crossed her lips. She was a Berlitz, after all - and the Berlitz adapted to the situation at hand; made use of the opportunities available; _emerged victorious and graceful _even when the road was dusty and the hotels below average.

Besides, she had always wondered in what way commoners loved (how did they show their affection when perfume-sprinkled roses and exclusively ordered chocolate bonbons were out of reach? Could a simple 'I love you' suffice?) - and just now, she got her answer.

His cheeks were flushed, his hands sweaty; but the tentative smile that adorned his face made up for any lack of presentation. She could detect the warmness, the love, the _sincerity _behind his goofy laugh; and knew, before having tasted it, that his home-made chocolate bonbon topped all confectionery she had previously received.

* * *

03.

Pink, pink, pink - _everything _around him was _pink_.

As though the world had been taken over by Mattel, and Barbie had painted all shops in her favourite colour; as though girls had finally won the eternal sex battle and rubbed their victory in every man's face by making fuchsia the new black; as though a five-year-old had had gotten the right to decorate the world according to her wishes, and had gone loose with ribbons and hearts and little blue-eyed angels with blond curls instead of halos.

Or it was just February fourteenth, and the annual feast of commerce had returned.

Silver didn't do Valentine, because love seemed far too unbelievable after all that he'd been through. Where was the _love _when he'd been kidnapped to a far-off place, remembering nothing of home or family? Where was it when he finally regained said loss, only to discover that he was related to Team Rocket's mastermind? And where, he wondered, was the love when the world got turned upside down, each and every time, caused by the whims and wishes of a single crazy individual?

The only one who'd been with him all those times was Blue; and that's why each year he got over his reluctance for Valentine and bought something for his sister. (A box of chocolates; a pair of shiny new earrings.)

Still, despite the cynicism and the natural recoil for something so cliché (something so _sickeningly _sweet) he couldn't help but wish to partake in this ritual of commercialized affection. Not because he liked chocolate hearts that much; not because he wanted to have a hand-written card with cheesy poems and clumsy-drawn hearts.

_But because he yearned to be loved _- receive the affections and recognition he had missed out on all those years.

When the mail brought him two gifts later that day, then, he didn't succeed completely in suppressing the smile that appeared on his face. The card and chocolates from Blue were expected; the ones from his old rival and newly-become friend were not.

He didn't care that Gold said it was tradition to send cards on Valentine to everyone around you; the lie was obvious, even on paper. It was beyond impossible that the black-haired boy had sent a card to _all _people around him - such a time-consuming task wouldn't hold that guy's attention for more than three seconds .

Feeling strangely (though perhaps, not _that _strangely) content with that knowledge, Silver flipped the card around to get a look at the cover; and found himself facing the inevitable. The redhead made a face when his eyes registered the overload of pink, but it was more out of habit than anything else.

- because in reality, he didn't mind at all.

* * *

04.

Two cards; two senders. That was the obvious conclusion leading from the contents of the white mail box situated next to the fence. Still, what else he should detect from it - Red was not sure. Why these cards? Why now?

He turned to look at the covers of his gifts - fuchsia hearts and vermilion roses.

_Oh. _

It was February the fourteenth. Valentine.

A blush crept up his face, steady but unsure, and with a sudden nervousness he flipped the cards around. As much as the covers resembled each other in theme and colour, the backsides were most striking in their difference. One signed; one completely blank.

His eyes stared for a moment at the letters displayed on the first one.

The red ink, illuminative against an even background, didn't only reveal its author's name - it also seemed to convey its sender's personality. Bright and powerful and fierce, like the copper manes that always surrounded her fair (_determined_) countenance.

Still, for inexplicable reasons, he found himself being more interested in the other card. Blank - and yet, radiant with a curious warmth that was more perception than feeling. As though the previous sender had held it in (her) arms, and then put it here; as though the sender was a kind but timid human being who didn't know to put (her) feelings into words; as though -

Well. As though he'd received a blank card that said nothing but still put his mind in disarray.

Red fumbled with the two pieces, uncertain and indecisive. Then, he took the gifts with him back into the house; only because he didn't know what else to do. (Thinking about meanings and objectives and reasons confused him in a way he wasn't used to; as if there was more than met the eye, as though there was something hiding beneath the logic of everyday.)

Once inside the house, Red placed the cards on top of the mantel piece, perfectly next to each other. Fair and honest. He smiled in a way, and then sauntered out of the door again - towards the (blissfully vast, blissfully empty) training field on the hill.

.

.

_(When the door fell shut, one of the cards tumbled down.)_

* * *

05.

The first thing Blue did that day was smile.

She _loved _Valentine; it wasn't only the perfect opportunity to tease certain oblivious friends with petty yet very effective questions, nor just the day at which she could send love to all people dear to her. No, most of all it was that time of year where you could shamelessly _receive _things - legal and all. And, as her previous Valentines were any indication, she'd receive a _lot _of gifts.

She was just popular like that, really.

The brunette smiled when she got dressed, and also when she went downstairs to take her lazy-Sunday breakfast (toast with strawberries, washed away with lots of creamed coffee).  
The smile was still there when the mail arrived at eleven, brought in by two heavily-groaning men who didn't seem to share Blue's happiness about the sheer quantity (and _weight_) of her Valentine mail.  
It had disappeared when she'd gone through all the cards and gifts and sat between a rummage of shredded packing-paper and discarded love declarations.

It wasn't there - _it wasn't there…_

Her shoulders slumped as she realised that she would give up all the gifts surrounding her if it meant receiving something from the one person who hadn't send her anything. _Even though she had sent _him _something._

(It was just a card, a pink card with roses and flying Jigglypuff like she had bought for everybody; nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary.  
It was the only one, though, where she had felt a tad bit anxious about sending; a tad bit _nervous_, because the text on the cover for once completely corresponded with the fluttering feelings in her body.)

And of course Green knew. He was just smart like that.

She sighed sadly as the realization hit her that he, too, should have gotten his mail by now; and, just like with her, it would be heaps. Lots of roses. Lots of chocolates. _Lots of cards, too._

- then, her phone beeped.

She reached for the gadget more out of habit than anything else; but as soon as her eyes absorbed the message stated in the text, the smile that had disappeared for a quarter of an hour returned in all its intensity.

It wasn't a card; there weren't any roses or chocolates involved; and the message was as formal and to-the-point as ever. Still, for once words meant more than money could buy; because knowing the person who was behind it made all the difference here.

_Thanks for the card. Happy Valentine to you too, Blue._

_- Green_

* * *

**A/N:**

**Some notes per drabble:**

**1) My personal favourite. No Frantic/Sapphire-bashing intended at all, by the way; these barbaric-centred thoughts are _Ruby's_, not mine. I actually quite like Frantic - Magmajewel is just that more interesting to write about :D  
2) I love this couple primarily because I love its game-counterpart. Still, it's that cute on its own! (It helps, of course, that Dia's the personification of adorableness.) Well, and it seems obvious I'd use food in this one. ;D  
3) You can say what you want, but the tension between Gold and Silver isn't one to be denied. :D Not too sure if Gold would actually send him a card, but hey - for the love of fan fiction! ;D  
4) Again: no Mangapoké/Misty-bashing intended. I'm actually rather fond of that shipping, but it seems obvious that the writers have decided to go with Specialshipping - so I went with that line of thought. (If you hadn't realised yet, it's obviously Misty's card that fell down - literally but far more symbolically. Poor girl. I do feel for her.) Btw - Red was far more difficult than I had imagined. Perhaps because by now I'm so used to writing cool/aloof/all-knowing Green? :D  
5) Oh, come on. You couldn't expect me to not include one of this one :D (Isn't it ironic that the pairing I love most gives me the drabble I like least? They deserve better, for sure.)  
**

**Well, overall I'm not that happy with the results (three of 'em I like, two not so much) but deadline is deadline. It would be nice to know, though, if at least _someone_ enjoyed these ones; because that would make the trouble writing it worth it for me. :)  
**

**~Snoaz  
**


End file.
